The Toughest Play

13. Rogan

CHAPTER 13

ROGAN

E ver since Autumn texted she was coming over, I’ve felt keyed up. My gaze repeatedly lands on the open gate, hoping to see her coming through. Each time she doesn’t, I grow more impatient by the second.

I’m in the middle of a cornhole game and about to toss one of my bags when one of the guys whistles. Then someone says, “Who’s that?”

I quickly make my throw and spin around before it lands. I meet Autumn and Scarlett as they step into my backyard. “Ladies. Welcome, and thank you for coming.”

“Hi.” Autumn’s gaze flits around, taking in everyone who’s here.

I place my hand on her arm and gently squeeze. “I’m glad you came.”

“What about me? Are you glad I’m here?” Scarlett asks.

“Of course. I have a feeling you were instrumental in getting Autumn to agree.”

Scarlett shrugs. “I can’t remember.”

“Yes, she was,” Autumn states.

“You didn’t want to come?” I ask, trying to keep my tone flat. I don’t want her to know it’s upsetting to think she wouldn’t want to take advantage of an opportunity to spend time with me.

Her green eyes meet mine. “It’s not that I didn’t want to come. Can we leave it at that for now?” She pinches her bottom lip between her teeth. I’ve never seen her look nervous before.

I nod and decide to move on, hoping she’ll feel more comfortable. “What can I get you two to drink? There are coolers with water, soda, and beer. If you’d like a mixed drink, I can make one for you.”

“I’ll grab a beer,” Scarlett says, heading for the patio where the coolers are.

I nudge my arm into Autumn’s. “What would you like?”

“I drove, so I’ll be sticking to water.”

“I think I have some iced tea in the fridge. Would you prefer that?”

Her eyes light up. “Ooh, that would be great.”

“Come on.” I take hold of her hand and lead her inside. We walk through the back porch and continue on to the kitchen. I release my hold on her to open the fridge wide. “See anything you want?”

Stepping forward, she peers inside. She plucks a bottle of iced tea from the shelf and studies the label. “Is this sugar free?”

“Yeah, I don’t drink anything sugary. That stuff is toxic for my training regimen.”

“And it’s toxic for my waistline.” She snickers, and I smile. It’s nice to see her loosening up.

“Now you know where they are if you want another one at some point.” I close the refrigerator door and turn to face her. “I’m really glad you came.”

She smiles softly. “So am I.”

I think she’s saying that to be polite, and while I don’t want her to feel the need to lie, I’m not going to mention it. By the end of the night, I plan to make sure she can say those words and mean them.

I pull her into my arms and she tenses up, but once she realizes I’m only interested in hugging her, she relaxes into me. With the sizable height difference between us, her cheek rests on my pec. She wraps an arm around me, and the hand holding her iced tea bottle gets trapped between us against my bare skin. But I couldn’t care less. All I’m cognizant of is how soft and pliant she feels—like she was custom made with my arms in mind.

As difficult as it is, I force myself to let go of her. “Let’s go have some fun.” This time when she smiles softly, I can tell it’s genuine. I clasp our hands together once more, as if it’s the most natural thing. And to me it is. When she’s near, it’s difficult to not touch her in some manner. Whether it’s my arm nudging hers or holding her hand, I want our bodies having a point of contact.

We retrace our steps through the house and out the back door. Everyone’s gathered around the cornhole area at the rear of the yard. When I set up the boards, I made sure they’re twenty-seven feet apart from front edge to front edge, which is the distance used in official cornhole tournaments.

“Autumn, get over here, girl,” Scarlett calls out.

“Sounds like you’re in demand.”

“Yep, and I think I know what she wants.” She doesn’t elaborate further, but she slips her hand from mine and moves over to stand beside her friend.

Scarlett wraps an arm around her shoulders. “Should we show these guys how it’s done?”

“If we must,” Autumn says, looking less than pleased.

“Yes!” Scarlett throws a fist in the air. “Doubles time. Autumn and me against…?”

I move up next to Cooper and wrap an arm around his shoulders. “Us,” I state.

Scarlett’s gaze moves back and forth between the two of us, sizing up the competition. A cocky smirk lifts one side of her mouth. “Let’s do this.”

“Ladies first,” I say. The two of them have a quick discussion before Scarlett steps forward to pick up a bag. Autumn and I split from our teammates, moving to stand across from them as we prepare to face off in this competition. I expect Scarlett to give the red bundle a careless toss but she takes her time. And when she finally makes the throw, it sinks right into the hole.

My friends all cheer, and Scarlett aims a quick curtsy their way, then moves aside for my turn. I feel the weight of Autumn’s stare, as if she’s standing next to me, but I quickly draw my attention to the task at hand. I toss the black bundle and it sinks through the hole untouched. Cheers go up all around, but I don’t celebrate. We’re just getting started.

Now it’s Autumn’s turn. She leans down, grabs a red bag, and tosses it from one hand to the other as she gets in position beside the board. She holds the bundle in front of her chest, as if she’s about to roll a bowling ball down a lane. Her chest rises and falls with a deep breath before she draws her right arm back and then forward like a swinging pendulum. The bag sails through the air in a perfect arc, plunking right in the hole like a basketball into a net. I hear my friends shouting out their approval, but I can’t take my eyes off Autumn. Her smile stretches wide, plumping up her cheeks, as she and Scarlett share air high fives across the distance.

Cooper rolls his neck from side to side and stretches each arm across his chest, loosening up. Bending over, he grabs a bag and gets in position. He makes the underhand throw, and the black square hits the board and slides into the hole. Our teammates chorus out their cheers and then Scarlett is up again. Like the first time, she sinks the shot, and Autumn jumps up and down, celebrating.

I nod at Cooper, letting him know I’m ready. What then ensues is a back and forth battle of point scoring with neither team willing to stop and accept a tie. It finally ends when the girls sink three out of four of their shots and we only hit two. Cooper runs over and, even though we lost, we bump chests.

“We’ll get them next time,” I say.

“Dude, you’ve got it so bad,” he says.

“Yeah.” I don’t even try to deny it.

“I hope it works out for you. Just don’t get distracted from the big picture.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t. Football is the most important thing to me, and that’ll never change.”

He thumps my back with his palm. “That’s what I like to hear.”

“Hey, hey, boys, looks like you got beat by a couple of girls,” Scarlett taunts.

“Scar, show some good sportsmanship,” Autumn scolds.

“It’s okay. It’s all in good fun,” I say.

Autumn shakes her head. “No, you don’t understand what a shit talker she can be. Especially when she’s got a drink or two in her, which she does.”

“Sounds like Griffin.” I lift my chin toward him, and she glances over. “I’ve had to drag him out of more than one bad situation he’s gotten into because of his mouth.”

“We better keep them away from each other. They might be deadly together,” she suggests.

“You might be right.” I swipe my arm over my forehead, stopping the drops of perspiration before they can reach my eyes. “Jesus, it’s hot as hell. What do you say we take a dip in the ocean?” She briefly hesitates before she nods, but it’s enough for me to notice. “Are you sure you want to?”

“Yes.”

I take her hand and lead us through the gate and down the driveway.

“Shouldn’t we tell the others?” she asks as we reach the street.

“They know where the beach is if they want to come.” I thought about announcing where we were going, but any time I can get alone with her, I’m taking advantage of. As it is, it probably won’t take long for them to notice we’ve left.

“I can’t imagine living this close to the beach. I’d be on it as much as possible. Scarlett and I are within walking distance but we don’t have the view,” she says as we reach the end of the street. We pass between the large clusters of sea grass growing on either side of the short path and then we’re on the beach itself. No matter how long I live here, every single time I step foot on this sand, I’ll always be stunned by the beauty I see.

“Wow, this is gorgeous.” She glances in each direction as we make our way to the shoreline. “Why isn’t it more crowded?”

“It’s a private beach,” I explain, raking my hand through my damp hair. “Jesus, that sounded so pretentious.”

She smiles. “No, it didn’t. This is a well-to-do area, so I’d expect no less.”

“The only reason I can afford to live here is I got lucky when I found my house. It was a home owned by siblings and they just wanted to get someone to take it off their hands. So I paid a fraction of what I could have.”

“You don’t need to explain or feel ashamed that you live in a nice place. You’ve worked for that.”

“Well, backup quarterbacks typically don’t make huge money, so I never imagined I’d be able to have a home here.”

“Eek,” she squeaks as the water comes in, washing over her feet. “That’s a little too cold for me.”

“Yeah, but it feels amazing. Let’s go for a swim.”

She hesitates once more, and this time it takes longer for her to nod. “Okay.”

“You don’t sound sure,” I point out.

“No, I am. I want to swim.”

I give her hand a gentle squeeze. “I sense a ‘but.’”

She stares out at the horizon. “I’m not comfortable being in a bathing suit.”

“Is there a reason for that?”

She turns her head, checking to see if I’m being serious before she answers. “I’m not comfortable with the way I look in one.”

My gaze scrolls up and down her form more than once. “If it’s any consolation, I think you’re beautiful.”

“Thank you. I don’t want you to feel obligated to compliment me. You don’t need to.”

“Autumn, I don’t feel obligated to do anything. I happen to think you’re damn near perfect, and I have no qualms about sharing that information with you.” She blows out a breath and laughs at the same time, her lips making a sputtering sound of doubt. “I’d say a lot more if I didn’t think it would send you running.”

Like how I stroke my cock every night, thinking about her curvy body beneath me… bent over in front of me… sitting on my face. You name it and I’ve imagined it. She’s definitely not ready to hear any of this.

She walks away from the water’s edge to peel her tank top over her head. Next, she wiggles her shorts down her legs. Folding both items, she sets them on the dry sand before coming back over. I practically swallow my tongue when I see her curves unleashed for the first time. She notices me staring, and frowns.

“What’s wrong?” Her arms cross, covering her middle.

“Nothing.” My head slowly tics side to side with disbelief. “You’re even more stunning than I realized.”

She rolls her eyes. “You don’t need to lay it on that thick.”

Catching her chin between my fingers, I turn her face, forcing her to look at me. “I’ve never been anything but honest with you, and I promise I always will be. Understand?”

“Yes,” she whispers. I release her chin only to grab hold of her hand and tug her along with me toward the water. “No. No. No,” she says, her voice growing louder and more panicked. But I don’t slow down, forcing her to keep running or risk face planting. I’ve always been the type of person to plunge right into the freezing water. Never mind any of this toe dipping shit. That only prolongs the inevitable and makes it more excruciating.

Our knees raise as we high step through the water. With every splash, she squeals, but I keep going until I finally drag her under, letting a sizable wave wash over the top of us. I come out of the water grinning while she breaks free, chanting, “Oh my God. Oh my God.”

“Wasn’t that refreshing?” I ask, dropping hold of her hand.

She wipes the water from her face. “If refreshing feels like taking an ice plunge in the winter.”

I chuckle. “It’s not that cold.”

“Tell that to my… parts.” She covers her chest with an arm.

I bark out a laugh. “Your parts? We’re adults here. I think you can say tits without offending me.”

She wrinkles her nose. “I’m not worried about offending you. Besides, is that even possible?”

“No, not unless you say something negative about my family.”

“That’s the line for you?”

“Yep.”

“I like that you’re so loyal to them. It’s sweet.”

“We should swim for a bit and get used to the water,” I suggest.

“Or we could get out and take a walk.”

“Let’s compromise. We can walk through thigh-high water, which is great exercise and we won’t get overheated.”

“Okay,” she agrees.

“Which way do you want to go?”

Turning her head from one side to the other, she points to the left. “That way.”

We start trudging through the surf, the water providing resistance with every step we take.

“Do you do this for exercise often?” she asks.

“I wouldn’t say often but I have a few times. And I’m always surprised by how much work it is.”

“Oh, good,” she pants. “Knowing a professional athlete thinks it’s hard work makes me feel better.”

“The best thing is it’s a fun way to work out,” I say.

“Yeah, that’s the kind of exercise I like. Distract me from the pain I’m in.”

“That’s what football does for me. It feels like I’m having too much fun at my job.”

“It’s obvious how much you love it. Anyone who watches you play can tell.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely. You seem surprised.”

“I guess I am. I’ve never thought about what other people think when they watch me play. Speaking of playing… Where did you and Scarlett learn to play cornhole so well?”

“College. Where else?”

“We didn’t play cornhole at college. We played beer pong and lots of other drinking games.”

“Okay, if I’m gonna tell you this, we need to get out of the water. I can’t feel my legs.”

“You should’ve told me.” I capture her hand and we trek through the surf to the shore. Even when we’re walking on the wet sand, I don’t relinquish my hold. And she doesn’t seem to mind.

“So Brett was in a frat and Scarlett and I spent more time than we wanted to at their house. There was a cornhole setup in the backyard and the two of us played a lot . We spent hours out there trying to avoid the guys who lived there. They treated us like it was a foregone conclusion that we’d take care of everything while we were there. It didn’t take long for us to learn to make ourselves scarce, and the best way to do that was to be outside playing cornhole.”

“Why weren’t they using the boards themselves?” I ask.

“Because they had a game room in the basement with a ping pong table, a pool table, and video games.”

“That explains it.”

“Scarlett and I repeatedly hustled most of the members of our football and hockey teams out of money. It’s how we paid for our groceries the last two years of college.”

I grin at her. “I wish I could’ve seen it.”

“Looking back, we probably shouldn’t have swindled them, but they were kind of assholes, so I don’t feel too guilty.”

“If that’s the worst thing you’ve done, you’re practically a saint.”

“What’s the worst thing you’ve done?”

“I’m a man. I’ve done my fair share of dumb shit. It goes with the territory. But sophomore year of college, my roommate and I went to a party. He drank too much to drive us home, so I did. And I had no business getting behind that wheel. I was too inebriated to drive but still aware how lucky we were to make it home in one piece and without hurting anyone else. That was the first and last time I let that happen.”

“Thank God it all worked out.”

“I still feel disgusted with myself over it.”

“We all make mistakes. It’s how you move on from them that matters. If you kept driving while under the influence, then you’d be a horrible person. But you didn’t. You grew from that experience.”

“Is that what happened when you and Brett broke up?”

“Not at first. I was too busy being hurt. After a while, I got sick of feeling sorry for myself. But I have to confess, it’s only been in the last week that I’ve really begun to realize how manipulative he still is with me. I’ve made a conscious decision not to fall for his guilt trips anymore.”

“If he bothers you in any way, will you tell me?” I ask.

Her lips press together. “Umm, probably not.”

“Why not?”

“Because we only met recently. I’m not even sure if I like you.”

Laughing, I give her hand a quick squeeze. “Oh, you like me.”

She shrugs. “You’re not horrible.” That’s probably the closest I’ll get to an admission from her.

“I’ll take it.”